Chapter 38 ROADSIDE INN

Moor. Take my horse, and dash a bottle of wine over him. 'Twas hot work.

Schiller: The Robbers.

We will now make inquiries after Mr. Coates and his party, of whom both we and Dick Turpin have for some time lost sight. With unabated ardor the vindictive man of law and his myrmidons pressed forward. A tacit compact seemed to have been entered i

            
            

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